CHAPTER 1

Everything about this day had gone absolutely right for Brock—thatis, right up until the incident in the kitchen. As far-fetched as itsounds, Brock had been toying with a white bean from the Saturday jarand was planning to fire it into the back of Dane's head as he was busywashing the dinner dishes. Ostensibly, he launched it perfectly to brainDane straight into a nasty rage but instead it took an impossible 180turn doubling back unmistakably into the middle of Brock's forehead!Brock was stunned, angry, humiliated, and aghast! Dane could barelykeep a lid on his derisive laughter; Brock tried to save face by making afast and fastidious exit. How could his loser of a brother pull off a magictrick like that?

Brock had remembered a weird sensation when he breezed pastDane—like a chill ..., or his heart skipping a beat, or trembling ...but certainly, something indefinable; he headed straight up to hisroom—amusingly referred to as his 'laboratory'. His mind waspreoccupied with a few bits of bullying he planned to visit upon Daneand whomever else that might be innocently standing by, but his mindwas anxious about the peculiar bean incident. Everything surroundingthat brother of his, lately, was just plain weird and he had to really applysome super concentration skills to figure out a plan to get him back.His forehead still stung from the kamikaze bean that had just smackedhim full force between the eyes—unconsciously rubbing the reddeningtarget. He scanned his room for ideas and absent-mindedly emptied hispockets on top of his homework—the offending white bean included.Nothing came to mind easily—however, for Brock, one of the mostenjoyable feelings about his 'teasing' was the challenge it presented infiguring out not only the torment inflicted on his victim—but alsohow to get by with it undetected.

Brock knew the family was downstairs preparing to play boardgames as an alternative to TV; usually he was pretty good at Scrabble,Trivia, Boggle, all of them, and loved competition (and frequentlywinning)—but he was bothered by the recent weirdness from Danethat seemed to plague him night and day—but also that Daneirritatingly won more often. First, Dane never seemed to get madvery much anymore and Brock had relished those tantrums—from adistance, of course; but he did love how Dane's eyes bugged out, gotbloodshot ..., his ears turned bright red ..., and it seemed like hishead puffed up like it was ready to explode! Brock laughed softly tohimself just thinking about it. Then he wondered for a short momentwhy it seemed so humorous to him. He guessed it felt good somehow,it felt ..., oh, what was the word ...? Don't know—don't care. Hewas never one to languish over useless information. And second, howcould his loser of a brother always seem to get the best of him in theprocess? He was not liking that feeling one bit and he resolved to ampup his strategies.

Moving on, he scanned the objects on his desk for ideas with whichto inflict irritation on his hapless victims. Brock's desk was impeccablyclean ... ; in fact, his entire room was impeccably clean! He was oneintentional cleaning machine! Ooo, woo ..., maybe perfectionistic?Nah ... When one was constantly planning, devising, formulating,and concocting activities to 'try out' on other people for personalentertainment, one needed to be necessarily organized! Just now,though, Brock noticed a strangely out-of-place object sitting at theback of his desk. It was nothing except a miniature rocking chair—acurious, extraordinary, miniature rocking chair. What the ..., he shookhis head as his mind trailed off. H-m-m ... how/when/why ... could/would/should a tiny, rocking chair suddenly appear out of context onhis neatly-arranged homework desk among textbooks/study materials/pencils and paper?

Brock sat back on his chair in wonderment. Maybe his Mother setit there when she was inspecting his cleaning job or forgot it when sheleft his room. There had to be a logical explanation; in fact, Brock wasall about logic, but right now, it was not important enough to deterhim from his real objective of stirring up some devious entertainment.He immediately got out a sheet of paper and decided to make alist as his mind geared toward charting a plan for his dear brother,Dane—first on his list. Sedrick, Dane's fish was second on the list forcertain reasons; Brock ever-so briefly recalled the recent scare the fishhad given him—but quickly got back to the 'list'. Brock licked his lipsand suddenly thought of Janie, Dane's little dream girlfriend! ThenRicky, the goofball who caused all the problems with having to workon restoring the flower garden in the courtyard of the School! Yowza,he realized this list could go on forever and he furiously scratcheddown names/projects/ideas until he filled up the top half of the sheetof paper.

Ah, yes ..., Brock recognized the familiar, odd, but good feelingof power ... or, maybe ... superiority when he was able to set Daneinto a rage. Some of the things that kid did when he got mad! Brockthoroughly enjoyed the drama—but the best part was when Brockcould essentially step out of the picture and nobody would be thewiser! The rush of being the instigator behind a plot and gettingby with it! Very seldom did his parents ever figure out who causedDane to rip. Brock thought every day his parents got more andmore clueless ..., or was it just because he was so dang good atpushing buttons! Love it, love it, love it! He socked a fist into theair to celebrate a guaranteed future personal victory against thoseon his List!

Brock took a sneering look at his homework and decided to call hisbest friend, Ruk, to 'share' answers. Ha ha! Teachers were as clueless asparents! Brock was counting the days when he would turn 14—onlyten and a half months away—and could start driving to schoolwith a Learner's Permit—then the fun would really begin! He couldtantalize Dane with riding along and drive off without him, have morespeed available to spy on him, tempt him with all sorts of tricks andthen innocently say to Mother, "I thought Dane was walking hometoday ...,". Still smirking, Brock dialed Ruk's number to quicklyexchange answers to their pointless, boring homework. One of theactivities was even a test! Why would a teacher send a test home andtell you not to cheat? Geez ...

Ruk answered, "Hi Slimeball! What's your answer to #13—whatstarted the Civil War?

"Hey, Jerk, I don't know anything about the Civil War—all I knowabout is my current war and how I'm sure to win it ..." laughing, thenturning serious, "hey, are we going to play paint ball this weekend?"

"It's an oxymoron."

Laughing, Brock quickly inserted, "Yeah, just don't tell yourparents or my parents will find out and I'll be grounded for the restof my life. My 'source' came through with the ..., an oxymoron?What's that?"

"You don't know what an oxymoron is, Moron?"

"Of course I do, idioso, I don't know what or who you are callingan oxymoron!"

"The Civil War, Dopus! Civil and war are oxymorons—like ...,there's nothing civil about a war ..., a war isn't civil ..., they mutuallynegate each other!"

"You probably got that stupid idea off Jeopardy! You would learn alot more about life, Dufus, if you would get your pimply head...